


Accept No Substitutes

by Eowyn315



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-03
Updated: 2011-08-03
Packaged: 2017-10-22 04:37:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/233827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eowyn315/pseuds/Eowyn315
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spike's out to prove that he most certainly is not impotent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Accept No Substitutes

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Clawofcat for betaing.

“I don’t understand,” Spike moped from his perch at the foot of Willow’s bed. “This sort of thing’s never happened to me before.” He touched his aching forehead gingerly with his fingertips.

“Maybe you were nervous,” Willow offered, lying stiffly on the bed, her instincts warring over whether she should comfort Spike or be afraid of him. She felt as though her brain hadn’t quite caught up to the situation. She’d been all nice and miserable, listening to suitably depressing music and missing Oz so much her chest ached, only to have Spike waltz in and interrupt her wallowing.

The brief terror had been comforting, familiar, but now they were into awkward territory, and she found her compassionate nature kicking in, drawing her sympathies to the despondent vampire at her feet, who was clearly distressed by his apparent inadequacy.

“I felt all right when I started,” Spike replied, his voice tinged with doubt. It was those bloody commandos. Had to be. The vamp in the neighboring cell had mentioned experiments…

He took a deep breath, refusing to accept defeat so easily. “Let’s try again.” Without warning, he lunged at her, eliciting a squeal from Willow, only to immediately draw back in pain, smacking his palm against his forehead. “Ow! Ahh!”

Before Willow could recover from the shock, he tried again, with the same result. “Ow! Damn it!” He leapt to his feet, violently kicking Buffy’s night stand before beginning to pace around the room.

Breathing hard, Willow watched him with frightened eyes. “Maybe you’re trying too hard,” she suggested, tentatively sitting up and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. “Doesn’t this happen to every vampire?”

Spike whirled around to face her. “Not to me, it doesn’t!”

Willow started to respond, trying to think of something encouraging, but then her face fell as a disheartening realization occurred. “It's me, isn’t it?”

Still preoccupied with his inability to perform, Spike stopped his pacing and glanced over at her. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, you came looking for Buffy, then settled. I – You didn’t want to bite me. I just happened to be around.”

“Piffle,” Spike scoffed, waving a hand dismissively.

“I know I’m not the kind of girl vamps like to sink their teeth into,” she insisted. “It’s always like, ‘Ooh, you’re like a sister to me,’ or, ‘Oh, you’re such a good friend.’”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’d bite you in a heartbeat,” he assured her, easing back down onto the bed next to her.

Willow furrowed her brow, processing that. Finally, she ventured, in a timid voice, “Really?”

“Thought about it.”

She perked up a bit. “When?”

He ducked his head and smiled. “Remember last year, you had on that, ah, fuzzy pink number with the lilac underneath?”

Willow nodded, and he raised an eyebrow suggestively.

“Really?” she said again, this time with obvious delight as a smile spread across her face. She quickly realized how crazy that sounded, being pleased that Spike had wanted to bite her, so she sobered up her expression and said in a serious tone, “I mean… oh.”

Spike nodded, catching her brief enthusiasm. With a gleam in his eye, he leaned into her, soaking in her scent. “Could hardly control myself,” he whispered in her ear.

“Oh.” She let out a nervous little giggle as his breath tickled her neck. “That’s – Hey, are you sniffing me?” She stiffened, the predatory gesture flaring a warning even as it reminded her of Oz’s wolfish tendencies.

“God, you smell so good,” Spike murmured, seeming less like a killer and more like a lover as he ran a hand through her hair, nuzzling against her throat.

Against her better instincts, Willow eased her tense muscles slightly, his growly voice sending a shiver of anticipation down her spine. She’d gone to bed every night since Oz left longing for him to want her again like this. He used to press his nose against her skin, taking in deep draughts of her scent, a raw, animalistic desire tempered by his soft caresses. But Oz was gone, and Spike’s attention was exciting her more than she wanted to admit.

 _Maybe this is what I need,_ she mused. _To move on._

 _With Spike??_ another part of her argued. _Do you have a death wish?_

Blatantly ignoring that thought, she reminded herself that Spike, for whatever reason, seemed unable to bite her right now, and it actually felt really good, the way he was gently kissing the hollow of her throat, his fingers massaging her scalp. He made her feel attractive, sexy even, like he couldn’t get enough of touching her, tasting her.

Spike sensed the girl’s heart rate speed up, her skin flushing with arousal, and he smiled against her cheek. “Been a while, pet? Wolf boy not doin’ his duty?”

Willow’s breath caught in her throat. “He – he’s gone.”

Spike pulled back and met her gaze knowingly. “Cheated on you, did he?”

“How did you know?” she whispered, her suddenly brimming eyes widening at his intuition. Of course he knew. He’d been there himself, hadn’t he? Cried on her shoulder when Drusilla left him for a chaos demon. More than any of her friends, he understood her pain, had felt betrayal as deep as hers.

“Why else would you be thinkin’ you’re second-rate?” Tenderly, he traced one finger down the side of her face.  “Can’t imagine what was going through his head, steppin’ out on a girl like you.” His hand trailed down her throat, toying with the gathered collar of her shirt, seeking an invitation to go further.

“I – I –”

“Shh.” Spike leaned in again, this time to capture her mouth in a soft, firm kiss. She responded willingly, desperate for an affectionate touch, her lips parting against his tongue as his hand coasted over her petite frame to cup her breast.

“Can’t bite you, pet,” he murmured seductively, his thumb brushing across her nipple, hardened to a peak beneath the layers of fabric. “But I bet I could make you scream.”

She hesitated for just a moment, considering all the reasons this was a terrible idea, but then she pictured Oz and Veruca naked in the cage together, and nothing else mattered. A wave of anger and lust flowed through her, and she grabbed Spike by the lapels of his leather duster, pulling him against her even as she struggled to get him out of the coat. Spike chuckled at her eagerness, shrugging out of the duster and his red button-down shirt.

Between ravenous kisses, he yanked her paisley shirt over her head, tearing her bra to get at her pert breasts. Pushing her back down onto the bed more gently than when he’d tried to kill her, he attached his mouth to her nipple, rolling it against his tongue until she whimpered with need.

He wasn’t as cold as she expected, more of a lukewarm, and not at all uncomfortable. She’d always wondered what it felt like, all that time Buffy was with Angel, whether she missed the heat of a living body. Now, as Spike turned to give her other nipple the same treatment as the first, Willow learned first-hand what she had been too shy to ask.

“You’re gorgeous, love,” Spike rumbled, propping himself above her to admire her milky-white skin, dotted by the pink, glistening tips of her breasts.

Willow shifted nervously under his intent gaze, clinging to his t-shirt to keep her hands from creeping up to cover herself.

“Don’t be shy, Red,” he teased. “Could suck your lovely tits for days.” That turned her a deep shade of crimson, the blush spreading all the way down her neck and coloring her chest.

Spike’s eyes twinkled at her embarrassment, and he flashed her a sexy grin before lowering his face to her chest again, licking haphazard patterns on her stomach while he fumbled with her fly.

Shimmying down her body, pulling her pants with him, Spike pressed his nose against the damp crotch of her white cotton panties. He groaned with desire, her musky scent overwhelming his senses. Willow trembled as his tongue teased along the seam of her underwear, just shy of where she needed him to be.

“Spike, please,” she moaned, toeing off her sneakers and kicking her legs to dislodge her pants from her ankles, bucking her hips up toward him. “Please…”

“Love hearin’ you beg,” he growled, tearing her underwear away with a violent jerk. Willow let out a yelp as the elastic snagged against her thighs before ripping free, the sting and the aggression sending a flush of heat to her sodden pussy. Spike’s hands slipped under her ass, lifting her off the bed as he flattened his tongue, drawing it upwards over her sex in one long, slow lick. He repeated the motion again and again, delving a little deeper each time and lingering on her clit.

She gasped and jerked, legs flailing, and he caught hold of her, hooking her knees over his shoulders. “That’s it, baby, dig your heels in and scream,” he urged her, sliding two fingers into her slick channel.

She let out a cry as he began to pump, curling his fingers and pressing against her upper wall on each stroke. Her muscles squeezed him in protest as he thrust into her without any preparation.

“God, so tight,” Spike groaned. “Can’t wait to fuck you, little girl.”

She met his eyes over her belly, his gaze slightly hazy with lust, his mouth glistening with her juices. He bent his head to take her clit into his mouth, running his tongue over the swollen nub, the pressure inside her building with each pass until she thought she would explode.

Willow arched off the bed, her breath coming in ragged pants as a series of keening noises escaped her throat. “Oh, God, Spike, please!” she begged.

Just as she was on the brink of orgasm, Spike pulled away, leaving her wet pussy exposed to the chilly air. She moaned her discontent, but her gaze was drawn to his crotch as he popped the buttons of his fly, his full erection springing free. He pumped it a few times, coating himself with the juices running down his hand. Then he was slamming into her, his unbuttoned jeans chafing against her thighs as he seated himself all the way in. His cock felt heavy inside her, striking something deep down that sent shimmers of pleasure through her with every thrust of his hips.

Coaxing her again to the edge of release, he let her legs slip off his shoulders as he surged forward, vamping out and fastening his mouth to the throbbing artery just beneath the skin of her throat.

Taking a chance, Spike carefully slid his fangs into her flesh before she could protest. He tensed, bracing himself for the blinding pain he’d felt upon his previous attempts, but it never came. Willow writhed beneath him, her inner walls flexing and contracting as she hurtled into a powerful climax, the pleasure completely obliterating any pain from the bite.

With her tight cunt wringing his cock and her warm, sweet blood filling his throat, Spike came. He drank deeply, not stopping even when he heard her heart begin to slow, an unnatural shift from the rapid pounding caused by arousal and exertion.

Coming down from the high of her orgasm, Willow noticed her vision starting to blur, her head slightly dizzy, and she began to panic. She struggled weakly against him, but by then it was too late. Spike pulled back and grinned, her blood painting his lips.

“Had a hunch, see. Thought maybe if I lulled you into it…” He trailed off with a chuckle. “Didn’t even hurt, did it?” Rising from the bed and tucking his wet, softening cock back into his pants, he smirked. “Dunno what those soldier boys did to me, but they messed with the wrong vamp. Can’t neuter William the Bloody.”

Gasping in shallow breaths, Willow desperately tried to get up, to even lift her head, but she was too weak, too far gone, and her limbs were no longer hers to control. It occurred to her to try magic, if she could just levitate a pencil long enough to… but her thoughts were too foggy, too detached to focus on the spell, and she couldn’t muster the strength to work her will.

“You might live,” Spike told her, “if your precious Slayer finds you in time.” He cocked an eyebrow. “But maybe she won’t.” He lifted his wrist to his mouth, slashing across it with one fang. He held his hand above her, the blood running down his wrist to drip onto her dry lips. “What’ll it be, Red?”

With her last ounce of strength, she turned her head away from him, fighting against the urge to lick her lips.  

Spike shrugged. “Pity,” he said, as her eyelids drooped and her face went slack. “You really were first-rate.”


End file.
